


Letting Go

by MsNJS



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Canon Related, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsNJS/pseuds/MsNJS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war of the damned....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> As you know I always have Crassus and Kore feelings.
> 
> I don't know why I cant ever title these damn things... It will come to me hopefully.

“Where you going to tell me?” Tertulla asked suddenly when she finally found her husband.

Marcus was so deep in thought that he had not heard her approach. A slight hitch of breath was all he gave in response to her presence. He remained as he had been since returning home—quiet, reserved and more withdrawn than he had ever been.

He stood on the balcony gazing over Rome, caught somewhere between pride, grief, ambition and numbness. Feelings he often wallowed in but had now magnified.

He now stood the most successful man in Rome. Defeating Spartacus and his thousands of rebels had all of Rome singing the praises of Marcus Crassus. His wealth was ever-increasing and the Senate lay at his feet. Caesar was made a life-long alley and Pompeii removed from opposition.

The sun was high, shinning its promises over the glory of Rome. He gazed out at the magnificent city, seeing a reflection of himself—respected, powerful and unmatched. Yet he had never felt so distressed.

War is not a novel thing. Death, discipline and sacrifice were concepts well known, but lost—true, inconceivable and irreplaceable lost—was new and it troubled him. It left cracks in his foundation even though the building was _seemingly_ unaffected.

  
“Eyes fell upon the things Claudia is to procure,” Tertulla continued pulling him from his thoughts even though he did not turn to her. “There were some peculiar items requested....” She paused a moment. “Items that would only be suitable for...”

“I do not wish to discuss this.” He replied simply.

“You sent for _her_?” Tertulla hissed in a low, appalled whisper. He gave no reply. “She does not belong here Marcus!”

“No!” He interjected, half turning to her but then facing the window again. “She was not allowed here, _for your sake_.”

“Sentiments are unchanged!”

“Your sentiments are irrelevant!” He retorted. “I need to see her.”

“Why must you always reach outward for what _I_ strive to give you?!

"Weeks since your return, weeks since you return absent our son.” She said carefully as though her voice could break. “Weeks you have been brooding and silent and busied yourself to avoid me and Publius.”

“What would you have me say?”

“Something!” Tertulla snapped. “Some thought or words must form toward grieving wife and mother of your deceased son.”

Marcus pursed his lips and bowed his head, drawing in air as his only response.

Tertulla grimaced and her breath became heavy with anger. “I lost him too, I grieve too, Marcus!” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Can you find no comfort in the people you still have?”

  
“Comfort?” Marcus said curiously as though the word did not resonate with him. He was quiet for a long time, as if he had to retrieve the meaning from the depths of his mind.

  
“Treasure of my heart was struck for this world, as result of my unawareness, my ambition, my austerity…. I have come to realize that men like me do not have the fortune, the gift, of emotional comforts.” Marcus said pensively.

Tertulla’s stomach sank and her eyes shifted to the floor as she realized what, or rather who, he truly mourned.

“I was a fool to seek them or to try and embrace them when offered…. A man cannot have everything. I have chosen a path, wealth and power are the only things men like me deserve. It is all I have and I would set mind to it.”

Tertulla huffed and shook her head in disbelief. She stepped back from him as heated tears began to fill her eyes but she would not let them fall.

“Did you care for her that much?” She asked frankly. “Was it so powerful that parts of you have died with her as well? SHE WAS A FUCKING SLAVE MARCUS!” She shouted at him as the frustration of the last weeks, the last years, erupted from her. “A SLAVE!”

Tertulla gasped and paused again. “And she left you and now she is dead.” She said calmer but coldly. “Let her go.”

  
“I am.” He said and met her gaze. “No other option  is present.”

  
“Then why bring _her_ here?”

  
“Kore’s fate was because of Tiberius. And Tiberius was result of my actions and my influence. Blame and guilt just weighs upon mind and heart….”

“Then make amends through Publius, _your son_. Be different, be better...” She pleaded.

  
“ _That_ is my very aim.” He said to her and then left.


	2. Selfless

Marcus, Tertulla and Publius were sitting along the edges of the dining table eating midday meal.

The family sat in quiet after Nona had been harshly reprimanded for not removing the chair to the right of Marcus. It was Tiberius’ place, on the right side of his father, and Marcus needed it gone.

Tertulla attempted idle conversation throughout meal but Marcus did not reciprocate. So a heavy silence fell upon them.

“Apologies Dominus,” Nona said as she entered the room briskly. She instantly bowered her head and avoided eye contact with Tertulla. “Otho _and Prisca_ have arrived.”

Marcus nearly jumped from his chair and swiftly exited the dining area.

Publius looked at his mother curiously. “What causes such excitement?” The boy asked innocently.

Tertulla looked into his wide eye pitifully, biting back tears and forcing a smile. “Finish your meal…. Your father will return to us soon.”

++

Marcus walked hurriedly through the hall to the stairs that lead to the upper floor of their Villa.

As he ascended the stairs nervousness settled in the pit of his stomach. It had been almost 10 months. Ten months. He didn’t know what to expect….

It was a large, barely filled room. It wasn’t used for much except for occasional entertainment or relaxation. It had two huge windows on the west and east walls to capture the sunlight. Two chaises lay in the center of the room, framing a large foreign rug, gifted to him by Sulla. And pillows of all sizes were scattered about the room.

There, near the window stood Prisca, a petite Maghreb slave. She was a very quiet woman, obedient, caring and patient, but she was not the reason why Marcus rushed to the room.

“Dominus,” she said and bowed.

“Where is she?” Marcus said, slightly winded, and took a step toward the woman.

Prisca smiled and then turn to her left. “Marcia?” She called, but gained no reaction.

“Marcia?” Marcus asked softly.

From behind the chaise a little girl, practically a baby— with fair skin, thick dark wavy hair and big gleaming brown eyes—peered from behind the chaise. She walked over to him and stared with those beautiful, familiar eyes. His breath hitched slightly and he watched her raptly.

They stared at each other for awhile.

The girl stared with a curious look on her soft features as though she was trying to assess him. Marcus smiled at her, his stern stone mask cracked at the sight of his daughter and he stared at her with eyes wide and brimming with tears. She trotted the rest of the way to him and he knelt down to embrace the child.

Marcus turned from Prisca and held the child tightly. He took a heavy breath and let the few tears fall as they may. He never knew how much he missed her until she was back in his arms. He ran his fingers in the girl’s thick hair and along the apples of her cheeks in adoration. He had not been the father he wished to be but he loved her nonetheless.

“It is a wonder that face still gains recognition for one so absent.”

“She knows your voice Dominus, it has fallen upon ears since the womb and she will never forget it.”

“She has grown so much.” He said, just staring at her.

“Yes, Dominus. She walks and talks now. My hands are always full keeping up with her.”

Another smile crossed his face. “So she is well? Developing and learning?” He asked as he turned to sit on the window ledge and place the Marcia on his lap. He produced a doll from his robes and twiddled the thing to the girl’s delight. 

“Yes Dominus. Latin and Greek are being taught, as commanded. Evidence of her nature has already presented itself. She is very quiet and observant but intelligent, also caring and independent. She often tries to help with house hold tasks or to bathe herself…. She is a lovely girl, Dominus.”

“Of course she is, she is her mother’s child.” He smiled again but his blue eyes were shadowed with sorrow.

“Leave us for a moment.” He said to Prisca although his focus had not strayed from the child.

Prisca nodded then headed for the stairs.

Marcus placed the girl on the window pane, fixing her ruffled clothes and smoothing the thick curls of her hair.

“Apologies,” Marcus whispered. “Apologies, apologies, apologies….” He repeated over and over to his daughter as a tear fell from his eyes and he traced the soft hair of her eyebrows.

“So many thoughts weigh on mind but words are not adequate…. I find comfort in the fact that you are too young to mourn the loss of your mother. You will not miss her tender touch or long for her compassionate gaze or need her soothing words. And you are not old enough to hate me.”

Marcia touched his face gently, her small fingers splayed on his cheek to rub away the tears.

“And I would keep you unaware daughter. I would have you be the woman you deserve to be. What I should have done for your mother if I were not a selfish man.”

“Sefiss?” Marcia attempted the word.

Marcus nodded and then chuckled. “Yes, your father is a selfish man. But I am to right my grievous wrong.

“You will be a free woman, a Roman citizen, unmarked by slavery. You will never be reduced to collateral damage. And you will be un-tethered to the House of Crassus.”

The news seemed to please Marcia because she smiled, which made Marcus smile in turn.

“It is the greatest gift I can bestow and I give it with all of my heart. Know that I hel—”

“Dominus?” Prisca asked soft and suddenly. “Apologies, but…”

Marcus nodded without looking at the woman.  He ran his hands along the side of the girls face.  “Fare well daughter,” he said and kissed her forehead. He sighed deeply. “You both part from my presence but never from my heart.”

 


End file.
